


Pure Sauce

by NotTonightJosephine



Category: Present Laughter - Coward
Genre: Andrew Scott - Freeform, Enzo Cilenti - Freeform, M/M, National Theatre Live, Oral Sex (implied), and, apologies to my other projects just had to get this out, for letting me see this, homoerotic production, just have so much chemistry it's incredible, so obviously i'm obsessed with the 2019 Old Vic production, some kinda dynamics, strap-on (mentioned), thank you bless you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:54:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23487148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTonightJosephine/pseuds/NotTonightJosephine
Summary: Act II, scene 1 doesn't fade to black so soon.
Relationships: Garry Essendine/Joe Lyppiatt
Kudos: 8





	Pure Sauce

People called Garry conceited, but there was a casual arrogance to Joe, a predatory simplicity, that put Garry to shame. He could study it, he supposed, emulate it on stage, but he wasn't sure it would _translate_. And besides, when Joe flung his arm out in wordless expectation that Garry would help rid him of his watch, would _serve_ him, all thoughts of _acting_ flew from his mind.

For his own pride, he let the unspoken order linger in the air a moment before moving to obey. Heartbeat loud but steady in his ears, he took Joe's wrist in both his hands. Easy enough in its current position, Joe slid his hand into Garry's open dressing gown, palm resting against Garry's hip. Garry sucked in an involuntary breath, and fumbled with Joe's watchband. _God_ but his hand was warm, and broad, nothing but the thin cotton of his vest separating them. The contact was distracting, and oddly grounding.

Finally the watch fell free, and Garry bent over to place it on the side table. Joe seized the opportunity to claim his mouth in a kiss, hot and hungry, with an aftertaste of brandy. He broke off just as suddenly, undoing his cufflinks with practiced ease, shedding his bow tie and waistcoat with undisguised impatience. He turned his intense gaze back on Garry as he rolled up his sleeves, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Rendered almost shy, Garry slipped his dressing gown off his shoulders and let it ripple to the floor. Already he was more exposed than Joe, bare arms golden in the streetlights' glow.

Joe reached for him again, one hand on his hip, the other cupping his jaw, and then Garry found himself flat on his back on the low round couch, Joe looming over him and grinning.

"Is this what Helen likes?" Garry couldn't help but ask, a little breathless. "Or Morris?"

Joe gestured dismissively, an elegant shrug and hand wave that could mean anything, or nothing at all. "How should I know what Morris likes? Helen, on the other hand," he leaned in close, voice a low, musical murmur, "has been known to fuck me through the mattress."

Garry's breath hitched, and Joe chuckled quietly. "Is that what you want, Garry? To _fuck_ me?" He didn't let Garry answer, leaning down to kiss him again. "Because I have been _dying_ ," he said, finally sounding affected himself, "to _taste_ you."

Joe reached down to tug Garry's vest out of the waistband of his trousers. When Garry didn't protest, Joe rucked it up, and ran his hands over Garry's stomach, up to cup the base of his ribcage, and then down again to his hips, thumbs toying with the waistband. He glanced up, as if asking for permission. Garry nodded, lifting his hips, and Joe had the trousers down around Garry's ankles in a single swift pull.

Joe's hazel eyes shone with mischief when he looked up again.

"No underwear? Naughty boy."

"But the trousers are pure silk, _darling_ , so don't spill a _drop_ ," Garry said, mock-stern, but voice rough with want.

"Yes sir," Joe purred, and bent to his task.


End file.
